


Rusalka

by TheMerryPanda



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Post-Church Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Post-Golden Deer Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-War, Slow Burn, another ship pending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29911335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMerryPanda/pseuds/TheMerryPanda
Summary: A year after the war and reunification of Fódlan, Dorothea Arnault and Manuela Casagranda revive the Mittelfrank Opera Company in the war-torn city of Enbarr. They strive to meet the needs of their friends and deflect the selfish desires of former Adrestia’s fallen nobility, all while reconciling their dreams of love and romance.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault & Manuela Casagranda, Ferdinand von Aegir & Dorothea Arnault, Ferdinand von Aegir/Dorothea Arnault
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Show Business

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea of this story in the works since the summer of 2020, and now I’m finally daring to publish. I published the first three chapters together, and will hopefully update with another chapter at least once a month. At this time I have about 20 chapters projected for this story’s length. This story takes place on any non-Crimson Flower path.

Rusalka is a water sprite from Slavic mythology, usually inhabiting a lake or river…

Her main purpose is, however, to lure young men, seduced by either her looks or her voice, into the depths of said waterways where she would entangle their feet with her long red hair and submerge them… A rusalka is generally considered to represent universal beauty, therefore is highly feared yet respected in Slavic culture… [Source: Wikipedia]

* * *

_There’s no business like show business / Like no business I know. / Everything about it is appealing / Everything that traffic will allow / Nowhere could you get that happy feeling / When you are stealing that extra bow._

_~_ Colonel Buffalo Bill, Charles Davenport, Frank Butler, and Annie Oakley; “There’s No Business Like Show Business” _, Annie Get Your Gun_

“More fighting…” she whispered to herself.

But soon this will end.

That was what Dorothea Arnault told herself when she returned to Enbarr to finish a six-year-war. She fought alongside friends in an army consisting of the Knights of Seiros and their allies, wielding a sword and her finely tuned skills in magic. At first the fight was to defend her friends in the rest of Fódlan from Imperial invasion, then it was to help the army push back against the Adrestian Empire. Each battle wearied her, and she looked forward to not having to fight again.

Hubert von Vestra and other Imperial leaders defended the Imperial Palace from across the canal, stationed near the city’s center. While other army commanders went to face them, Dorothea was one of many others who defended the commanders by attacking the enemy soldiers that surrounded them. At one point, the soldiers under her command were drawn toward some enemies that raced near a very familiar building.

“The battle is nearing the opera house.” Dorothea went on to fell a swordsman with an attack from her own swift sword. “I hope everyone in the company is safe.” She thought aloud.

As her troops thinned out the enemy soldiers, she soon found herself beside her professor and her fellow songstress, Manuela Casagranda. When they found a break in the fighting, Manuela glanced up the building beside them.

“Has it really been so long since I was in that opera house?” Manuela shook her head. “Couldn’t have imagined any of this back then.”

The two songstresses glanced at each other, then at their army, which began its march into the Imperial Palace. They followed their allies inside, steeling themselves for more fighting.

~

A few months later, Manuela and Dorothea returned together to Enbarr. After the battle that returned them to Enbarr, they decided that they would help restore Fódlan by first returning to the opera company. They planned to restore the opera with their own funds and save the proceeds from ticket sales to someday start an orphanage and school. And the nice bonus: it allowed the songstresses to finally perform together on the stage.

Despite the state of Enbarr over the course of the war, the Mittelfrank Opera House, and the apartment building nearby where most of the company members used to reside, were in surprisingly good condition, the interior almost untouched by the war. The exterior, however, would have to be repainted to restore it to its former grandeur, but most of the important things – the sets, the props, the clothes, even the people and some some orchestral instruments – remained. They had the tools needed to restore the opera troupe. All that was needed to complete the building’s restoration was enough proceeds from the ticket sales over several months of performances.

The nobles who used to live in Enbarr moved to their home territories when the war began at the conclusion of Year 1880, with the exception of a handful who chose to fight for Emperor Edelgard, who, if they survived the war, returned to their families after they surrendered. Not many moved back since.

Most of the former company members remained, with the exception of a few who died fighting in the war. There were some hoots and hollers at the surprise return of the divine songstress Manuela Casagranda and the mystical songstress Dorothea Arnault. The opera company risked collapse due to the war’s overbearing presence shifting the people’s focus away from the arts and driving away their noble patrons. Now that the war was over, gradually more people were anticipated to return to the opera house seeking entertainment. Initial funds for costumes, props, and sets were provided by the two songstresses, who brought their earnings and rewards from fighting in the war, and now served as the company patrons, reviving older operas and writing new ones, casting roles, and directing the shows.

Once each month, the company performed one of their many older productions twice a day. In the meanwhile, Manuela wrote the Mittelfrank Opera company’s first new release: a comedy about two noblewomen (played by Manuela and Dorothea themselves) who donned disguises and fled their homeland to escape the wrath of the newly risen lord of the land. They then fall in love with two noblemen also pretending to be commoners who they each met once before they fled. The comedy rose from Dorothea’s character disguising herself as a man and teaching her love interest how to win the heart of his girl, who happens to be the character herself. The cheery show concludes with several weddings and the lord ceding his land to his more even-tempered brother to pursue his desire to travel the world.

The show was especially popular among the women in the audience, but plenty of gentlemen found themselves enjoying the play as well. It was also a unique show compared to the saturation of shows from smaller theater troupes about the recent reunification of Fódlan. But when some nobles caught word that the Mittelfrank Opera company’s famous songstresses not only fought on the front lines with Byleth, but personally knew Emperor Edelgard at the Officers Academy, the opera company was pressed to share their tale of the six-year war.

Dorothea took that task upon herself. She spent a long couple months coming up with the basic outline and script, but it took her longer still to determine how to start the show.

Dorothea pondered on lyrics for the show’s opening and closing numbers as she traversed through the familiar streets of Enbarr one afternoon. Nearly a year has passed since the war ended; it is late Verdant Rain Moon now. Although nobles didn’t go out trampling commoners like they used to, the streets were perhaps even more impoverished than when she was a young girl due to having been ravaged by the war. Even though she would have liked not to take as large of a role in the war as she did, Dorothea would have fought another six years if it meant she never had to live as a street urchin again.

Her heart hurt for the poor she came across. Especially the children.

Things were different from seven years ago, when Garreg Mach fell and there was nowhere to turn. So despite the risks, Dorothea went to the only place she did know: Enbarr. More specifically, her opera troupe. As the benefactor who had funded her way into the Officers Academy seemed to have disappeared at the onslaught of the war, Dorothea could devote more of her time ensuring that her company members would be kept safe as they hid from Imperial armies and loyalists. They hid themselves in an undisclosed place west of the city, and as the years went by and she trusted her old friends to take care of themselves, her priorities changed to care for the new orphans that turned up on the streets. She brought nearly a dozen with her on the long journey back to Garreg Mach monastery for the five year reunion Caspar von Bergliez reminded her of. To her relief, the church was there to offer the children sanctuary.

Nowaday, Dorothea had to wait for Yuri Leclerc to make his rounds in Enbarr to find a place for a child to go, usually the Abyss under the monastery. Until then, Dorothea would recruit them into the opera and either cast them as child extras if they were willing to walk on the stage or as stagehands moving props. They would live with Manuela and Dorothea in their humble apartment near the opera house until Yuri came to the city, and then accept his invitation to be taken to the orphanage in Garreg Mach.

Manuela had considered leaving the opera company when she saved enough money to make a home in some war-torn town to make into an orphanage and school. Dorothea started saving some of her wares to someday aid Manuela’s cause, but for now, their funds were limited by basic necessities such as food and shelter and the company’s purchases for costumes, props, and sets.

Dorothea found consolation in one of her last conversations with Professor Byleth at the conclusion of the fighting. Although Dorothea was grateful that the war was finally over, she felt sorrowful when she remembered the many people she couldn’t save. “We protected more than we lost.” Byleth had assured her. Dorothea had to agree. She believed that Byleth did everything possible to save the most people. Byleth also promised to do whatever it takes to keep the peace, and Dorothea believed her professor would keep that promise. So far, as far as Dorothea knew, her former professor has not let her down.

As Dorothea passed through the few remaining back alleys void of people, she hummed, experimenting with new melodies and vocalizing her thoughts. In a moment of silence, the wind carried the humming of a young girl to Dorothea’s ears. Intrigued, she followed the sound. The girl began to sing, a lovely voice for one so young.

“ _Moon, high and deep in the sky / Your light shines from far away. / You roam over the whole world / Gazing into people’s homes._ ”

It was a rendition of an older opera song Dorothea recalled. Finally, she turned a corner around the building and found herself at a stone water fountain. A little girl splashed in the lowest and largest tier of the fountain, using the reservoir to wash her arms and face. The rest of her little body was also sopping wet. The sun’s rays bounced off the water, reflecting millions of little droplets on her freckled skin.

Finally, Dorothea understood what a man she once considered a bee meant when he thought a water nymph lived in the fountain. The coincidence was not lost on Dorothea that this was the very fountain where the one she considered like a bee first saw her, many years ago.

“ _Moon, linger for a moment / And tell me where my beloved is. / Tell him, oh, silvery moon / That my arms still reach to embrace him._ ”

The small girl was putting on a burlap sack as a knee-length dress, three holes having been torn at the bottom of the bag serving as the holes where her head and arms came through. Her hair was a dark rusty color, and the water entrapped in it couldn’t hide that her hair was extremely light and curly, extending from her head at every possible angle.

The girl turned and finally noticed Dorothea. Shock and worry crossed her face for a moment, then she frowned and huffed. “Quit your gaping and go away, please.”

The snarky remark brought a smile to Dorothea’s face. “Apologies.” She replied. “You reminded me of someone I know. You have a lovely singing voice.”

The girl paused. She glanced to Dorothea with mistrust on her face, but cautiously stepped out of the fountain as she looked at her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Where are your parents?” Dorothea asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

“Gone.” The girl answered. “They died.”

As she anticipated. “And where do you live?”

“Nowhere. This fountain is the closest thing I have to home.” The girl sat on the edge of the fountain, allowing water to form a puddle underneath her. “Why are you talking to me?”

Compassion and a spark of inspiration overcame Dorothea. If she went through with this big idea, most of the songs already composed could still stay, only requiring a few lyrical adjustments.

“I was wondering if you would like to work for me.” Dorothea inquired.

The girl blinked at her. “What?” she whispered.

“You would be able to sleep in a bed, wear nice clothes, and eat fresh meals every day, and in exchange, you would sing and perform on a stage.”

The girl blinked still, speechless. Dorothea recalled the day Manuela found her singing and recruited her into the opera company. She didn’t believe it at first then either.

“I understand that it’s difficult to believe. How about we walk together to the opera house, and I’ll show you what it’ll be like? I could even give you work backstage if that is what you would prefer.”

Dorothea took a few steps towards the girl and extended to her an open hand. Hesitantly, the girl accepted it, and slowly she rose to her bare feet. She stood at a little more than half of Dorothea’s height, and stared at her with wide hazel eyes.

“You know, my mother used to tell me to be careful with strangers. But you do not seem so strange.”

Dorothea laughed softly. “Thank you. What is your name?”

“Camellia.”

“A beautiful name.” Dorothea smiled. “You can call me Dorothea.”

“Hmm…” Camellia hummed.

Dorothea raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

“I think your name is OK.”

“Just OK?”

“Yep.”

Dorothea giggled. “I think you and I are going to get along quite well, Cammie.”

The two walked together toward the opera house, leaving behind a small trail of water that led back to the fountain.

~

Although Camellia was initially cautious and shy, she was easily persuaded to join the Mittelfrank Opera company. She was quickly accepted by the company members, but a few suddenly began exercising caution around her when they heard of Dorothea’s plans for her in the next show. They felt uneasy about giving such a prominent minor role to such an inexperienced and young recruit.

Could she read or act? Some had asked. Would she learn her lines and music fast enough? Asked others. Would it not be easier to ask a child of one of the other actors in the company to perform? More still were concerned with her susceptibility to stage fright.

Manuela supported Dorothea. Camellia was about the same age as Dorothea when they had found her, she argued, and deserved just as much of a chance to prove herself as she did. Besides, no one else was small or young enough to play the role, and they couldn’t just relinquish her back to the streets; winter would soon arrive.

Camellia picked out her own new attire from the humble costume room, with only a small number of clothes close to her size. Her outfits changed daily, with the exception of black cap that gave her hair some semblance of tameness, but she seemed to have a preference for knee-length skirts and three-quarter sleeve shirts.

Dorothea kept her promise to Camellia, and in their very limited spare time she would teach her to read, starting with memorizing the letters of the alphabet. Even though she was worked near to exhaustion, Camellia seemed to have no desire to return to the streets, praying that she could find enough food to make it to the next day. As the songstress who welcomed her into the company, and like with other orphans before her, Dorothea felt obliged to watch over Camellia and show her the ropes, similarly to how Manuela welcomed her into the company.

Daily Camellia received hours of training from the other members of the opera company, training in several abilities including acting, self defense and stage combat, memorizing her lines, on refining her singing voice, how to project her voice more powerfully, and how to walk in fancy clothes and shoes. She took to singing very rapidly, though she struggled some in other areas.

“Whoever thought elevated heels were a brilliant idea?” Camellia remarked, nearly each time she tripped in her shoes. “I can’t walk in these!”

Manuela giggled in spite of herself. “Believe it or not, my dear, it was one of Adrestia’s male nobles who started the trend ages ago. The noblemen and women started to enjoy it, and then with time up to now, only women wear them.”

“I don’t like them.” Camellia groaned. “My feet hurt.”

Dorothea glanced at Camellia every so often between her own rehearsals and directing of the other company members. Unlike with the other things she learned, Camellia hadn’t made much progress over the course of an hour. Dorothea looked at the shoes one of the members of the company lent to her to have Camellia practice walking in. The heels were narrow, and taller than the ones she recalled practicing in when she was first introduced to the opera company. Camellia’s little feet barely fit in them.

After the practice session, Dorothea looked through the back prop room herself to see what other shoes were available. Every shoe available was either too big, unfashionable, or still had a skinny heel, ill suited for a young girl inexperienced with walking in heels.

The next day’s rehearsal, Dorothea presented Camellia with a new pair of shiny black shoes, complete with a sturdy buckle and strap and a heel base almost as large as its seat. Reluctantly Camellia tried them on, but she immediately recognized that these were easier to walk in than the shoes she had been practicing in.

“These shoes are much more comfortable.” She began to walk in them, wobbling at first, then gradually steadying herself more. “Thank you.”

“Of course! We’ve got to make sure everyone can perform their part.” Dorothea smiled. “Now chin up and face forward. Show me your walk!”

The two walked side-by-side.

“Good, good!” Professor Manuela noticed them and clapped her hands, pleased. “Be sure to keep up that confidence on the stage as well, my dear.”

By the next day Camellia was able to perform some basic dance steps in her new shoes. Over the couple weeks she progressed to more difficult steps. When she tried to coordinate it with the other dancers in the company, she tended to look at her feet more than out to the empty stage.

When they paused for a break, Manuela pulled her aside.

“Camellia, dear, you’re doing quite well. Even if you don’t feel like it, do keep your chin up when you dance. Your mistakes will become less obvious.”

Camellia gracefully accepted her feedback. It was not easy for her to apply the advice, however.

As the month progressed and the excitement for the current month’s show dwindled, Camellia and another company member would sit in an empty box seat, watching performances and observing acting techniques. As that weekend progressed, Dorothea was surprised to find that Camellia was suddenly uninterested in performing as an unnamed extra in the shows before Dorothea’s new show the following week. Why would she give up an opportunity to practice before more attention would be put on her in the next show?

Dorothea perceived that it was something more than a lack of confidence in her abilities. If this girl is anything like her…

~

“We have our first show planned for next Thursday.” Dorothea said.

“The middle of the week?”

“The last day of the month. Also, a matinee showing. There will be three performances a day for this show until the crowd size goes down.”

Camellia nodded. Four weeks have passed since Dorothea found her. The two walked along the quiet streets after a rehearsal and two performances one evening.

“Do you feel ready?”

“I can sing well enough.” Camellia said with a mild snap in her tone, then she paused for a moment, and sighed. “I’m not as sure about the dancing or acting, though.”

Dorothea nodded respectfully. “You do both of those well enough, Cammie. Everyone requires time to learn a skill, and while some skills you can pick up quickly, others take time. This is normal.”

“But am I learning fast enough? Am I going to be good enough to stay?”

“Of course you are. You’ve been doing splendidly for a girl your age.”

Still, Camellia shook her head. “I’ve seen how some of the other company members act around me. They try to be nice, but I know they’re worried about me failing and ruining the company’s reputation. I am too. If I can’t do my part, no one will like us, and we’ll all go back to the streets.”

Dorothea shook her head. She understood how children (and even some friends like Bernadetta von Varley) would frequently come up with fears that seemed irrational. She improved in her ability to effectively address them since she left the Officers Academy. She placed a gentle hand on Camellia’s back.

“You feel like the world is on your shoulders.”

Camellia blinked in surprise. “You know?”

“You’re in good company.” Dorothea smiled softly. “As you know, I started in the opera at about the age you are now. I primarily starred in small roles until I grew older and competed for the lead character roles. You are still young and new to this. Technically you only have a small role for this upcoming play yourself, earned because the rest of the company is already grown, and forgot how much a child at the forefront can improve the story. A small error won’t ruin the show. And if played off just right, it can enhance the show, make it seem more genuine.

“In other words, Cammie, you’re not the only one trying to carry the show. Allow me to shoulder your burden. And believe that you have value.”

Dorothea quietly reflected upon her time in the Officers Academy and during the war. Despite the sides that formed, her classmates, ones here and gone alike, seemed to believe that a person’s value comes not from their origin, but from their abilities and accomplishments. Dorothea is still learning to believe in her own self worth.

“What are you thinking about, Dorothea?”

Camellia detected Dorothea’s bittersweet smile. Dorothea blinked back a tear that threatened to form. “Camellia, you are the hero in your own story. You are deserving of love and respect. Remember that on the stage, but also in your own life. Promise me that?”

Camellia wondered for a moment, then nodded. “OK. I promise.”

“Good.”

The two made their way back to the opera house to retire for the night. Before they entered the building, Camellia looked to Dorothea.

“Dorothea?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for the shoes. I know it was you who bought them.”

Dorothea nodded and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Dorothea had already resolved to do whatever it takes to help Camellia ensure a secure future, and she was more than willing to secure for her a career in the opera, even if she only served as an extra rather than a lead. It was the least she could do. Now she also determined she was going to teach this girl to love herself. She wanted to give her a luxury she never had for herself and let Camellia grow up believing she is of value.

It may be too late for Dorothea to grow up believing in her own self worth, but it wasn’t too late for Camellia, and until Yuri revisits Enbarr, Dorothea was going to do her best to give Camellia that precious opportunity she never had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I am not a poet, I will list where I pulled song lyrics from when they are not from conversations in the game Fire Emblem: Three Houses.  
> Manuela’s opera is based off of William Shakespeare’s play "As You Like It".  
> The song Dorothea found Camellia singing is my iteration of a translation of "Song To The Moon" from the Czech opera [Rusalka, Op. 114] by Antonín Dvořák.


	2. The Wicked

_No one mourns the Wicked! / Now at last, she’s dead and gone! / Now at last, there’s joy throughout the land. / And goodness knows / The Wicked’s lives are lonely / Goodness knows / The Wicked die alone. / It just shows when you’re wicked / You’re left only on your own._

_~_ Glinda the Good Witch & Citizens of Oz, “No One Mourns The Wicked”, _Wicked_

The opening day of the Mittelfrank Opera company’s show on the war for the unification of Fódlan arrived. For perhaps the first time in eight years, the auditorium held a full house. Every seat in the galleries was sold out, and the yard up close to the stage was so packed there was only room to stand for the commonfolk who couldn’t afford seating.

The production was named _Crimson Flower_ , a story of the Adrestian Empire’s final emperor. Camellia had been cast as a young Lady Edelgard. She was dressed in a red tunic with a purple collar and belt. She wore a wig of light brown hair on her head, and wore white stockings and her black shoes on her feet. Her hair was braided and tied behind her head to better hide her hair under the wig.

“I didn’t know the emperor had brown hair.” Camellia said after the dress rehearsal. “I thought it had always been white.”

“There are many things the common people don’t know about Lady Edelgard, dear Camellia.” Dorothea’s former teacher, the one who occasionally called herself Auntie Manuela to her mild annoyance, smiled mysteriously. She didn’t elaborate.

Camellia wouldn’t be on stage for most of the production, but she didn’t mind. Dorothea cast herself as the older grown Edelgard who would lead the show. Camellia’s young El would appear in the beginning to set up her upbringing, and in the end to conclude the show. From the pieces of the full production she put together, she realized that this unique telling of the war is centered on the perspective of the fallen emperor, portraying her as a tragic villain rather than the evil hegemon many regarded her as.

Finally, the curtains were closed, and she listened to the sound of people bustling, conversing and finding their seats. Their voices grew louder as more people arrived and the start time of _Crimson Flower_ neared. Camellia felt her chest tighten when she peered past the curtains and saw hundreds of people.

“How are you feeling, Cammie?” Dorothea asked.

Camellia turned to her. As Dorothea explained more of her own backstory to her, Camellia learned to put more trust in her fellow street urchin. Though Dorothea looked a little unusual with her wig of long, straight white hair.

“A little nervous.” Camellia answered honestly.

Dorothea smiled and nodded. “Me too.”

“Does the feeling go away?”

“Of course. It just happens to wait until you get on the stage and start singing before leaving.”

Camellia nodded, but another concern crossed your mind. “What if they don’t like me? I’m an orphan.”

“They won’t see the orphan on the stage.” Dorothea placed a hand on her shoulder. “They’ll only see a songstress. And if they don’t like you, it’s not your fault. You are, after all, acting as a girl who grows up to be someone considered to be the bad guy, and one from our world.”

“Why are you telling her story then? Why not the good guys?”

“Because it is a unique story.” Dorothea swallowed and brushed a hand through her hair, a nervous habit Camellia picked up on. “War isn’t always a simple fight between good guys and bad guys. Many storytellers forget that. Sometimes it’s a battle for ideals, and the fighters on both sides could have the same opinion on an issue, but strongly disagree on how to go about facing it.”

“Is this what happened with Emperor Edelgard?” she whispered.

Dorothea nodded, and for the first time since knowing her, Camellia noticed a gloom in her eyes. How does she know so much of the emperor’s story?

Claps and cheers roared from behind a curtain when Manuela parted the curtains to address the audience. Camellia’s heart sank into her stomach, and she balled up some of the fabric of the red tunic in her fist.

“You’ll be fantastic, Cammie.” Dorothea encouraged, and gradually, Camellia gathered enough courage to loosen her hand.

The story of a tortured young emperor seemed more sympathetic than gratuitous now. Camellia finally understood why telling her story would be more thought-provoking than hearing the story of the hero Byleth Eisner who tipped the scales of the war after returning from a five-year disappearance.

Camellia took her place center stage behind the curtains. Slowly and deeply she breathed, calming her nerves.

 _I am the hero in my own story._ She recited to herself. _I am deserving of love and respect._ To more fully become her character, Camellia extended the speech to apply more strongly to her role. _I am a princess. I hold the future in my hands. I see injustice done upon me and my people, and I wish to stop it, no matter what it takes._

Manuela returned backstage and disappeared behind the set. The orchestra, having already tuned their instruments while the audience seated themselves, began to play in the orchestra pit under the stage. A grand overture encompassed a wide range of emotions: joy, bittersweetness, rage, sorrow. Camellia loved hearing the passion in the music; it reminded her of years ago when her mother used to sing.

Finally, the overture ended. The sleek black curtains parted, and an opened skylight cast a beam upon Camellia. The violins began to play, and at the designated beat, Camellia came in to sing just as she was taught to do in the past month.

“ _Reach for my hand. I’ll soar away / Into the dawn. Oh, I wish I could stay / Here in cherished halls, in peaceful days / I fear the edge of dawn knowing time betrays._ ”

~

Camellia played her role as expected, perhaps even more believably since she better understood the former emperor’s story. Dorothea found herself cheering for her when she finished the musical number and her character journeyed to Fhirdiad and back, and had to keep from sobbing when she shrieked at rats and her fallen siblings, trapped in the basement of her own home serving as a dungeon.

To the former Empire, it was no secret that Ionius IX, Edelgard’s father, had tried to seize additional power. Dorothea extrapolated that this was due to his wife’s firstborn, Ionius X, being too weak to attend the Officers Academy but wanting to give him and his siblings more experience in ruling the Empire. The Insurrection of the Seven was a retaliation effort against this. Though this detail wasn’t included in this opera, Dorothea suspected that the mysterious mages some referred to as Those Who Slither In The Dark had some role in it as well. How else could Edelgard’s other siblings have disappeared so quietly those years before Edelgard attended the Academy?

Finally, it was Dorothea’s turn on stage. She sported an old academy uniform complete with red stockings and a red capelet. Professor Manuela would be the only cast member playing herself, and that role would come in in just a few minutes.

Camellia was lowered under the stage, symbolizing the death of the young girl who simply wanted to be safe with her family. Dorothea retrieved from her a dagger in a Faerghus blue sheath, and took her place as an Edelgard reborn from unwanted experiments. When she was finally released from the basement prison in her own home, she rose to her feet, determined to dismantle the system that killed and ruined her family and cut a path to do so with the very dagger acquired from a forgotten friend from Fhirdiad.

Act One ended. The rest of Act Two consisted of the academy days, where Edelgard strengthened her abilities under the guidance and direction of a few professors, most prominently Professor Manuela and the then mysterious former mercenary Professor Byleth, a mostly silent antagonist in this production.

Even before attending the Officers Academy, Edelgard gradually pushed forward her plot to reform Fódlan and rid it of the Church of Seiros for once and for all, planning each movement alongside her loyal friend and companion, Hubert von Vestra. She reluctantly allied with the very people who subjected her to experiments, as she believed she must first destroy the system that encouraged them to experiment and prioritize Crests. Once the entirety of Fódlan became united against the Church of Seiros, then the people would have enough power to destroy Those Who Slither In The Dark, with their lesser known powers and mysterious technology.

In their first interaction, Byleth Eisner saved Edelgard from bandits. Since then, Edelgard’s musical lietmotif was whether or not she could trust Byleth with her goals and ambitions. Dorothea would pose the same question every fifteen minutes or so throughout Act Two. Gradually, Edelgard became more hopeful as Professor Byleth found herself disconcerted with the archbishop’s decisions and the Seiros faith.

In the last months before the year at the Academy, Edelgard soliloquized the story of how her parents met in Garreg Mach Monastery’s goddess tower. She mourned with Byleth when the mercenary’s father, the renowned Captain Jeralt, was killed by one of Edelgard’s reluctant allies. She felt no remorse in aiding in revenge, grateful Byleth was not permanently harmed. A month before graduation, Edelgard was crowned emperor of Adrestia, and after revealing herself to the Church and Academy, she despaired when Byleth chose the academy and church over her goals. Grimly, she led the Imperial Army to the monastery at the close of the year 1180.

After Byleth’s disappearance, the army cheered victory on the siege of the monastery and capture of Lady Rhea, and the ensemble closed Act Two with a grand number that made you forget for a moment that this was going to be a somber political drama with a tragic ending.

“ _Hail the mighty Edelgard, though red blood stains her story. / Heavy as her crown may be, she will lead us all to glory. / To a brighter dawn, we shall carry on. / Hail Edelgard!_ ”

~

The curtains dropped for a fifteen minute intermission. The audience roared in applause as company members scrambled to put on the next set for Act Three, to change costumes and relieve themselves as needed.

Only Camellia remained still, her eyes glowing with wonder from stage left. She blinked, realizing intermission had come, and hurried to her role of setting up props in the wings. When that was finished, she reclaimed her place stage left, sitting in quiet reflection.

“How are you, Cammie?”

Camellia jumped out of her reverie, then immediately relaxed she saw Dorothea.

“I was watching the show…” she answered sheepishly.

“That’s OK.”

Camellia quietly sighed in relief.

“It’s intriguing to watch when you star in a leading role, isn’t it?” Dorothea inquired.

Camellia could only nod. She may have been one of many main pieces of the puzzle, but even that wasn’t enough to reveal the full picture. Somehow, she both under and overestimated the size of her role.

Dorothea smiled. She could see the wonder in Camellia’s eyes, and it reminded her of her own experience performing for the first time.

If only there were a way to watch yourself as an audience member. It would certainly make it easier to see yourself act and how to improve on it. Since she was only on stage for a fraction of the show, perhaps Camellia could give suggestions on how to improve the story? Dorothea would have to see if a box would be open in a later showing so she could run up there and better observe Act Two and most of Act Three, like last week. But for now… 

“The best place to see the show from backstage is almost under the stage in the orchestra pit.” Dorothea suggested, pointing at the place of interest at the bottom of a small set of stairs. A wall separated and hid the orchestra pit from the audience as well as the stairs in question. “But remember to be under the stage in time for the finale.”

Camellia nodded, grinning brightly and genuinely, perhaps for the first time since Dorothea took her off the streets. It was like seeing magic for the first time; not the combat magic used in warfare, but that recreational magic that lit the sky at night or turned tea into a rainbow of colors. Magic that made you forget your real world troubles for a minute and made you wonder what other fantastic things could happen.

Camellia made her way to the bottom of the steps to the orchestra pit. A few minutes later, the faint bell indicating the resuming of the show rang, and Dorothea took her place behind the black curtains before they could rise.

This final act, Act Three, consisted of the taking of half of each the Kingdom and Alliance territories over the course of five years, only to only to gradually lose allies to the enemy’s side when the day of the Millenium Festival came. Following the months after the Millenium Festival ought to have taken place, the lands were retaken by an army backed by the Knights of Seiros and the former Professor Byleth in the sixth year.

Finally, they reached the city of Enbarr. Before they would siege the city, a parlay was arranged. A bittersweet quartet was sung, where the casualties of war were weighed against Edelgard’s goals and that of her enemy. Byleth begs for her to understand that they have the same enemy, but are approaching it in ways that put them against each other. While Edelgard hoped to eliminate the Church, Byleth used favor with the archbishop to reform ideas from inside the Church of Seiros. If they could just ally themselves as they did in the Academy days, they could unite the country in peace, allow for greater religious tolerance, and devalue Crests.

But Edelgard chose to continue to side with Those Who Slither anyway, not revealing in detail who they were to Byleth. To this day, Dorothea did not understand why. Hubert choosing to leave a letter explaining Those Who Slither to their enemies after his and Edelgard’s deaths left her even more confused on the subject. They could have more easily rid Fódlan of the true enemy that took so much from her if she had simply agreed to side with Byleth.

One more song rang out just before the siege of Enbarr, a love ballad that Dorothea was only slightly reluctant to include. Finally, the battle itself.

The story ended with a great sword fight between Edelgard and Byleth. A sheer curtain dropped, leaving the audience to only see silhouettes of the emperor’s final moments.

At the designated fatal blow, Dorothea let out an agonized cry. “It looks as though… my path… will end here. Claim your victory. Strike me down.”

“El…”

“You must! Even now, across this land, people are killing each other. If you do not act now, this conflict will go on forever. Your path lies across my grave. It is time for you to find the courage to walk it. If I must fall, let it be by your hand.”

A pause.

“My teacher, I wanted to walk with you…”

A sword fell hard, indicating the death of the emperor. She was barely 24 years of age.

A slow version of the opera’s first song played on strings, while Manuela narrated, explaining that although Edelgard’s dreams weren’t all fulfilled, some are being carried through. The Church of Seiros reformed some of its teachings to diminish the value of Crests. The new ruler of Fódlan accepted people according to their abilities rather than their upbringing. Tragedies like that of Edelgard von Hresvelg’s would not be allowed to happen again.

To Dorothea’s relief, Camellia made it to her place under the stage while Manuela talked. When her platform rose to the stage, she began her slow reprise. And at Dorothea’s cue, she made the song into a duet between the two Edelgards, young and grown. This was perhaps the most recently composed of the songs she wrote for this opera, but it was also the one of which she was most proud.

“ _Open the door and walk away / Never give in to the call of yesterday. / Memories that made those days sublime, / These ruined halls entomb stolen time._ ”

The company joined in the song’s conclusion. “ _Reach for my hand. I’ll soar away / Into the dawn. Oh, I wish I could stay / Here in cherished halls, in peaceful days / I fear the edge of dawn knowing time betrays._ ”

The curtains dropped, and the orchestra concluded the piece. There, the opera ended. The auditorium roared in applause, and continued to do so for the duration of final bows.

Dorothea beamed through the applause. She glanced at Manuela, who also shone, perhaps grateful her age has not counted her out of the opera yet. Dorothea then looked to Camellia, her fellow Edelgard, and saw her smiling just as brightly as she, perhaps more. Something in Dorothea’s heart strummed from sharing in Camellia’s joy.

~

After the curtains fell, floods of people flocked to the main reception hall. A few extravagant gifts were exchanged that night, and the gardeners of the city, as they have for previous shows, used the opportunity to sell hundreds of flowers that evening.

Manuela and Dorothea collected orchids, calla lilies, and dozens of red roses and carnations over the course of the evening. Even Camellia acquired flowers: a small bouquet’s worth of white rose buds and, to Dorothea’s surprise, a daisy tied with a ribbon.

On the first night of the first showing of an opera since they returned, Dorothea and Manuela each received a flower tied with a deep scarlet red ribbon with shimmery gold lining. One the second night, they would receive the same flower with ribbon as well as an elaborate personal letter that expressed the well-wisher’s gratitude and specifics on what they enjoyed about the show, whether it was special effects or acting. At the first show, Manuela received gillyflowers and Dorothea received a purple hyacinth.

Since then, Dorothea casually pondered who could be giving them the flowers. Manuela mostly received purple irises and laurels from the mysterious admirer. According to Dorothea’s limited knowledge of flower language, this admirer appreciated Manuela for her wisdom, loyalty, and lasting beauty. (They referred to Manuela as a princess in their letters as well, but Dorothea wouldn’t confess to Manuela that she accidentally read a letter one night when she nursed her inebriated teacher.)

Dorothea was sent a larger variety of flowers, which all communicated a large number of conversations: forgive me (the periwinkle hyacinth), first love (lilac), either affection or thinking of you and absent friends (zinnia), and splendid beauty (amaryllis). Today she received a pink tulip, expressing good wishes and friendship. 

An extra flower, first for Manuela at the beginning of the Verdant Rain Moon, then another for Dorothea at the close of the Horsebow Moon, expressed well wishes for their respective birthdays, just yesterday for Dorothea. These clues confirmed to Dorothea that the admirer knew her and Manuela from their time in the Officers Academy. _It was kind of them to send flowers yesterday even though the new show started today_ , she thought. Regardless, the flowers and letters were a welcome change from the generic red roses and love letters, both proclaiming gratitude and “true love”, groveling for her affection.

Manuela rubbed shoulders with Dorothea, pleased with the day’s work. She held another purple iris tied with ribbon in her hand. “Well, Dorothea, dear, what was it like sharing the stage with your own apprentice?”

“She did well for her first performance. I’m proud of her.”

Manuela looked to Dorothea with a kind love in her eyes that puzzled Dorothea. It vaguely reminded Dorothea of her mother. That was so long ago…

“What is it, Manuela?”

Manuela blinked. “Oh, apologies. It’s been fascinating watching you grow as you have. Not only have you grown to be an excellent writer and composer for the opera, but you have your own adoring apprentice. Your own Dorothea, I suppose.”

“Hmm. I kinda like the sound of that.” Dorothea giggled, then pondered on it a little more. “Thank you, Manuela.”

~

The songstresses retired for the evening. Dorothea changed from her red, white, and gold costume dress resembling Edelgard’s battle attire to a more comfortable black nightgown with thin sheer sleeves, then sprawled on her bed with a portion of a stack of letters she collected from fans. She didn’t even make it through two before growing weary of reading the first of many generic love letters addressed to her. Already, Dorothea yearned to see what her admirer would share tomorrow in their letter. Would they notice that she wrote this play? Did they like it?

 _I should check on Camellia_ , Dorothea thought to distract herself from her wondering. Perhaps she would like someone to read her letters to her. Camellia was not yet an expert in reading.

With the introduction of Camellia, their two-bedroom apartment became more cozy; a couch behind a partition in the sitting room was used as a private area for her sleeping quarters.

Dorothea rapped on the wall next to the partition, but got no reply.

“Cammie?” she called. Still no answer. Slowly, Dorothea peered around the partition.

Camellia was not to be found.

Suddenly, a sense of dread filled her chest. Dorothea raced to Manuela’s room.

“Manuela. Have you seen Cammie?” she asked through her door.

“Not since the reception hall.” Manuela replied. By the smell of floral perfume emanating from the door, Manuela had been preparing to go out, probably with some local noble for drinks.

Dorothea’s heart stopped, and immediately she feared the worst. She threw a modest maroon shawl over her shoulders, hastily tied it at the waist, and raced out of the building, arming herself with a sword that hadn’t yet been returned to the prop room. Her fingertips on her free hand crackled with magical energy.

 _This happened far too soon. She’s too young._ Fear seized Dorothea’s soul as she scoured the streets for any sign of Camellia. _I’m so sorry, Cammie. I should have focused on you more. Taught you more self-defense and the like._

Dorothea prayed in her heart, an uncommon occurrence.

_Goddess, please protect her._


	3. The Songbird

_I’ll know by the calm and steady voice / Those feet on the ground. / I’ll know as I run to his arms / That at last I’ve come home safe and sound. / Until then, I shall wait / Until then, I’ll be strong / Oh, I’ll know when my love comes along._

_~_ Sarah Brown, “I’ll Know”, _Guys and Dolls_

Camellia was seized before she could scream for help.

After collecting her gifts along with the other actors and actresses, she had left through the opera house’s back door to first drop off her gifts in her area of the apartment, and then to return outside for some cool evening air. Although it was nice receiving positive attention from people for once, Camellia felt overwhelmed by the hordes of people that came to offer gifts.

Dorothea had warned her that she may receive gifts from people that only cared to see the songstress. Camellia hadn’t fully realized yet why that was a bad thing.

A scrap of worn fabric was wrapped around her mouth and tied behind her head, and a rough burlap sack was thrown over her head. There was no seeing through it. Her hands were bound by painful cords of rope. She wriggled and jerked, but too many hands were on her to permit her even a chance of escape.

The sinister voices around her muttered softly, uttering commands to each other. Quickly they walked and turned corners, pushing and pulling her when she didn’t turn fast enough. They carried her under her arms when her attempt to drop down and roll away failed. There must have been three people involved, maybe more.

Tears streamed down her face when all efforts seemed in vain. Suddenly, the troop stopped, but not soon enough for her to walk into someone and for both of them to collapse onto the paved pathway. She was pulled up to her feet just as quickly as she fell.

“Excuse me, but why is that young girl bound?” Someone inquired. He had a pleasant tenor voice.

She heard one of her captors swear under his breath.

“Release her at once.”

Immediately she was hoisted up, carried by one man as they ran. Less than a minute later, she was dropped to the ground. Camellia landed on her side before she rolled. Jagged rocks from the pavement dug into her arm, and she screamed into the gag. When she became aware of her surroundings again, she heard swords unsheath and cross, clashing many times. Suddenly, a yell of pain. A spray of a thick liquid dripped onto her other arm. A feeling of dread filled her chest when she recognized the feeling of blood.

In short time, she heard her captors run away. One was shrieking that his sword arm had but cut open, while the others yelled at him to shut up.

Camellia squirmed and wriggled to sit herself up. She was lifted from under her arms and stood up to her feet, presumably by her rescuer.

A heavy sigh escaped her rescuer’s mouth. “Noble or common, that was no way for any man to treat a young girl. There is no excuse. I hope you will forgive me for the injuries you have sustained.”

Two hands pulled the sack off of her head. Camellia found herself face to face with a man with long orange hair tied back with a red ribbon and amber eyes to match the hair. He had a surprisingly pleasant complexion, and looked at her with such genuine concern and kindness that she suddenly felt as if her father was with her again. Not that this man looked anything like him; no, he was much too young, and their facial structures were not alike. The similarities began and ended at the hair color, and even so, her father had hair of a darker mahogany, like her own hair. She used to be so sure of it.

He also looked like one of those noblemen, judging from the richness of his attire. If Camellia’s hands weren’t bound, she would’ve had to restrain herself from placing her hands on his head to see if he actually had horns like the rumors have said about the nobles.

Her rescuer untied the gag, and when the strip of cloth fell, Camellia realized her mouth was dry. She wetted her lips while the man untied the cords that bound her hands.

Gently, he tended to the injury on her arm, gently rubbing the crushed pebbles off her arm.

“I am not an expert healer, but I can tend to a scrape. May I?”

Camellia nodded, and the man conjured some symbols, chanted a spell, then projected the visible energy onto her arm. Her skin mended itself, and soon the only evidence of injury was fresh pink skin where there used to be small gashes.

Magic was a lot less scary when it wasn’t being used to destroy or cause pain.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

The man returned her gaze and offered a small, kind smile. “You are welcome.”

“Cammie?”

Camellia turned to Dorothea’s familiar voice, then immediately ran to her, hugging around her waist. “Dorothea!” she said, desperately seeking safety in her reach. Dorothea wrapped one arm around her; her other arm held a sword.

“Cammie, what happened to you?” Dorothea asked.

“Some men tied me up and took me away.” She then pointed to the orange-haired man. “He saved me.”

Camellia felt Dorothea’s body relax and exhale a breath of relief. “I’m glad you’re safe.” She watched Dorothea turn to the man. “Thank you, Ferdie.”

“Ferdie?” Camellia asked. She loosened her grip on Dorothea and faced her rescuer.

“Apologies. We have not been properly introduced.” The man bowed. “I am Ferdinand von Aegir. And you are?”

“Camellia.” She squeaked.

“Camellia.” He repeated. “Is there a surname?”

Camellia shook her head. Thankfully, Ferdinand didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, then. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Camellia.” He stood up to address Dorothea. “And it is a delight to see you again, Dorothea. Would you ladies like me to escort you two back to your home?”

Camellia glanced up to Dorothea, who looked back to her for her approval. Shyly, Camellia nodded. Dorothea then turned to Ferdinand with mild surprise still on her face.

“Your company is welcome. Thank you.”

Dorothea hung her sword from the belt on her waist. She nearly took a step toward the opera house before she noticed Ferdinand offering his arm, patiently waiting on her. He smiled warmly when she linked her arm with his, resting her hand on his forearm. Camellia held Dorothea’s other hand, and together the three walked.

~

Twice Dorothea opened her mouth to say something, only to decide not to say what was on her mind. It had been at least a year since she last saw Ferdinand, when they celebrated the end of a six-year war and the coronation of the ruler of a united Fódlan. After that day, he departed alone for Aegir territory, and she for Enbarr with Manuela.

The autumn air suddenly felt cooler as a breeze flew through the streets. If her arms were free, Dorothea would have used them to warm her arms with her hands. She resisted leaning into the warmth of Ferdinand’s side.

“Your hair is shorter.” She finally said.

Ferdinand shrugged. “Not by much.” He replied. “Enough people seemed to like it when we reunited with Professor Byleth that I thought I should keep most of it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It just… looks different.”

How did she make conversation with him before? That’s right; she didn’t usually. Dorothea accepted her own awkward silence, and they walked quietly for a long ten seconds.

“I quite enjoyed the show, Dorothea.” Ferdinand finally said.

“You came?”

“Of course! I have come to every show twice since you and Professor Manuela returned to the opera last year.”

Dorothea’s jaw dropped. “You’re the one who’s been giving Manuela and I those unique flowers and letters.” She realized. The ribbon on her flowers matched the one in his hair, and they had a similar color scheme to that of Ferdinand’s attire, minus the navy blue lapels of his coat.

“Unique, you say?”

“I receive more letters that compliment my voice and beauty rather than admire the effort and work I put into the show. Compliments beyond that have always been more interesting and meaningful to me.”

Ferdinand smiled warmly, and Dorothea found herself grateful she shared the information with him, rather than withholding anything that might confess an interest in his friendship. “I am glad to hear my letters are well received.”

“I haven’t heard anything in particular from Manuela, but I’m sure she enjoys your letters as well.”

Ferdinand glanced behind him, and noticed that his cape caught on something. It was Camellia, who had reached behind Dorothea to touch the hem of the cape. She looked up to him, and she blinked in panic.

“Oh! Sorry!” She ducked behind Dorothea, who instinctively placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You sent Camellia a flower as well.” Dorothea said inquisitively.

Ferdinand nodded. “It was her first show, was it not?”

Dorothea looked to Camellia, who cautiously peered to Ferdinand then nodded. He in turn addressed Camellia.

“You shared a side of Edelgard I never considered before. I found it compelling and insightful. Thank you for your stirring performance.”

Camellia blinked a few times as her cheeks gradually turned pink. “Thank you.” After a few seconds, she spoke again. “Did you know her too?”

Ferdinand and Dorothea both stopped in their tracks for a moment to glance at each other. “Yes.” He finally answered. “We attended school together, about seven years ago now.”

“All three of you?”

Dorothea nodded.

Camellia pondered for a moment. “And did you give me that daisy with the red and gold ribbon, sir?”

“Indeed.” Ferdinand replied.

“Well, thank you. It’s my second-favorite flower!”

“Second-favorite, eh? And what would be the first?”

“Camellias!”

Dorothea laughed light-heartedly. “I should have guessed.”

“I also like clovers and dandelions.” Camellia added. “Any flower you can find out in a field, really.”

Soon enough, the three made it to the street between the opera house and the apartments where many of the songsters and performers lived. At Camellia’s yawn, Dorothea dismissed her to go to bed, and had to keep from yawning as well when Camellia bade her good-byes, extending a quick curtsey towards Ferdinand. Dorothea watched as Camellia climbed the staircase up to the third floor of their apartment building and opened the door into their apartment. Though Camellia was certainly shaken by her attempted kidnapping, she didn’t seem too stirred, as her gait seemed jovial and comfortable.

Dorothea was snapped out of her reverie by a sudden warm feeling over her shoulders. Instinctively, she jerked aside, only to realize that Ferdinand had removed his cape from his shoulders and rested them on hers.

Ferdinand drew back his hands. “I apologize. I should have asked if you would have liked it first. You seemed cold.”

“It just surprised me was all, Ferdie. And kind considering I am nearly home already. Thank you.” Dorothea wrapped the cloak more tightly around her shoulders, holding the ends of the cape together with her hands in front of her chest. Slowly, she stepped towards the building to follow Camellia.

“Dorothea?”

She paused and turned around. “Yes?”

“If I may ask, is she of any relation to you?”

“Oh, no.” Dorothea shook her head. “I found her about a month ago and recruited her into the opera. She’s an orphan.” _Like me._ “She was singing in the town fountain southeast from here.”

“The one a few blocks from the Imperial Palace? Where we first saw each other?”

“You remember that one so clearly?” Dorothea felt herself becoming defensive again, and fought to open herself up to what Ferdinand would say.

“It is the fountain closest to my home. I had revisited it many times as a boy, wondering if I would see a water nymph again. As the years went by, it felt more and more like a dream.”

As usual, he again proved himself to be honest and sincere. Dorothea breathed deeply to tame the unwarranted anger. “I thought you were in Aegir territory.”

“I was.”

“What happened?”

“There is not much left I can tend to there. Most of my father’s business was done here in Enbarr, and with the Hresvelg line and other nobles gone… I feel it is my responsibility to improve the conditions here as well.”

“Ferdie…” Dorothea began, then paused, realizing she didn’t actually know what to say.

“Yes, Dorothea?”

He stared intently into her eyes. “Don’t… overwork yourself.” She finally said.

Ferdinand chuckled softly. “Of course. That is why I make the time to attend the opera.”

His thumb rubbed against the hum of his coat, a nervous habit Dorothea realized she was already copying. Did he have other business to attend to tonight?

“If I may ask, Ferdie, why haven’t you signed your name on the letters you sent?”

“Oh.” Ferdinand blinked. “I was not sure if you would be as receptive if you knew it was I who wrote them.”

Dorothea glanced aside. “I see.” She said. She knew exactly why he would wonder this, and it was her own fault.

“I look forward to writing another set of letters tonight.” Ferdinand continued. “I must admit, the love ballad in the final act surprised me. It was well performed, of course, but I was not expecting Hubert of all characters to be the one singing it.”

Dorothea laughed nervously. “I almost had that song taken out, but a few songsters found it so intriguing, they insisted on keeping it in. It’s a good thing the dead stay dead; I’m sure Hubie would be rolling in his grave if he could hear his song of unrequited love for Lady Edelgard.”

Ferdinand shifted slightly uncomfortably. “Is there any basis for him having those feelings?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. It was something I suspected when I first met him, but my intuition could have been wrong. That song wasn’t going to be his in the first draft of _Crimson Flower_.”

“Who was originally going to sing it?”

Dorothea opened her mouth to answer, then thought of something else. “Why don’t you stay longer after the show tomorrow, and then I’ll let you know.” She smiled slyly. “You can return for your cape as well.” She draped the cape over her arm and waved playfully.

Ferdinand chuckled softly. “I believe I can make the time.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you tomorrow evening after the show!”

“I look forward to it.” Ferdinand bowed to her. “Good night, Dorothea.”

“Good night, Ferdie.”

Dorothea bowed her head to him, then made her way up the stairwell to her apartment. She stopped at the top, then turned to watch Ferdinand as he peacefully walked down the alley and presumably to his own home. He didn’t strut like he used to seven years ago, but there was still a brilliant confidence in his gait.

“Dorothea?” Manuela called to her from behind her, and Dorothea rotated to face her. 

“Manuela!”

“I took off looking for Camellia and dropped a short letter off at the pub to cancel my date tonight. When I came back near here, I spotted her climbing up the stairwell. She told me what happened inside.” Manuela placed a hand on Dorothea’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you found her and that both of you made it back safely. Is it our Ferdinand who found her?”

“Yes.” She answered, almost wistfully. “It was him.”

“And he didn’t come up to see me?” Manuela clicked her tongue. “A shame. I would have liked to see him again. His letters are always so lovely.”

Dorothea almost gasped. “You knew it was him the whole time?”

“Almost. It took me a few weeks to figure out why his penmanship was so familiar.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t know that you didn’t know it was him.”

Dorothea chuckled softly. She really did make that ordeal more troublesome than it needed to be. “Well, if you’re really interested in talking with him again, Manuela, we’re planning on talking again after the show tomorrow. I think he’d like to talk with you as well.”

“Oh, that would be delightful.” Manuela smiled, then made no effort to disguise a yawn. “Well, as I had unfortunately postponed my date with a handsome noble in case you needed more help finding Camellia, only for that to now be resolved, I guess I’ll just go to bed.”

Dorothea stifled her yawn. “Good idea.”

The two retired to bed. In little time, Dorothea could hear Manuela snoring from her own room. Dorothea reflected on the days she first met Ferdinand as she finally drifted to sleep.

~

Dorothea had slept soundly her first night at the Officers Academy. The bed was more comfortable than the straw mattress in that tiny apartment near the opera house. And the bedding and blankets… so soft! Perhaps nobles considered the wool mattress adequate, but she considered it luxurious. The only fault she found was dust behind the cabinets, probably collected over a few years due to there being no need to move them.

Her two dormitory neighbors were also girls in the Black Eagle House. One she hadn’t seen yet, but rumor had it she wouldn’t normally leave her room anyway; she had been kidnapped and taken there? Her other neighbor was a younger girl not yet sixteen, but hailed from the vassal state Brigid. Her hair had the most beautiful and intricate braids she had ever seen, and she had a lovely smile.

As most of the students were moving in over the next couple days, classes hadn’t officially started yet. However, the homerooms were open to allow the year’s students to get to know each other and their professors. At that point, only two of the three homeroom professors had been selected, both from Adrestia, so who knows which one would be assigned to the Black Eagles. Dorothea hoped it was Manuela, her fellow Mittelfrank Opera diva who helped her off the streets and onto the stage.

Her classmates consisted of dozens of minor nobles as well as those more well-known ones from one of Adrestia’s seven ruling families. She was the only commoner from the Adrestian Empire who managed to get accepted into the academy that year.

Many of the knights of Seiros consisted of men and women who graduated recently within the last couple years. However she chose to look at it, there were plenty of people she could court and potentially marry here, and all three houses had someone from their respective ruling families in attendance.

Dorothea eyed a handful of students walking into the Blue Lions homeroom next to the Black Eagles homeroom. The tall redhead of a trio was cheerfully chattering away, while his sleek ink-black haired friend reluctantly walked beside him and a plain yet lovely looking blonde girl skeptically looked to the boys as though she thought they would cause havoc without her supervision. All three were handsome enough.

This was going to be a good year, indeed.

“Excuse me?”

Dorothea turned to face a cute, shorter girl with long white hair and periwinkle eyes. A tall black-haired boy, a couple years her senior, stood beside her.

“Are you the Dorothea from the Mittelfrank Opera?” the girl asked.

Dorothea beamed brightly. “Yes, that’s me!” She gave her a small wave. “And you are?”

“My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg.”

The Princess of Adrestia herself.

“Oh, Princess Edie! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Dorothea gave a quick simple curtsy. Thankfully, even that formality seemed a little much for the heir’s liking. That or it effectively countered her casual nickname, the one she used with her fellow songsters. They had always wondered what her legacy would be in a play written decades from now. It seemed she would be easy to befriend. Her companion however, might be a different story. “And you are…?” 

“I am Hubert.” The boy answered simply. Indeed, he would be a more difficult nut to crack.

“He has served me since I was a child.” Edelgard explained.

The princess and her retainer were an interesting pair. Dorothea was nearly certain Hubert concealed some romantic affection towards Edelgard, but who knows if that would ever come to light.

She also met two boys younger than she who seemed to have been friends from childhood. One always seemed drowsy, and the other seemed to always be looking for an argument or fight. After a few minutes around them, Dorothea wondered if it was what it was like to have younger brothers.

In the time she talked with Linhardt and Caspar, another boy came into the room, loudly introducing himself to others in the homeroom. She heard some groans presumably from the few students who had already met the boy. He wandered the homeroom, hovering to other students like a bee inspecting a garden.

Dorothea caught the side profile of his face, then after half a minute of quiet introspection, she nearly gasped. She recognized his bright orange hair and those eyes.

She was only a child nine years ago. The day was the best in her little life. A woman named Manuela had caught Dorothea singing to herself, and asked to see her again tomorrow morning to teach her role as a child extra in the Mittelfrank Opera company’s newest production. By tomorrow she would have her own little room in the apartments near the opera house, and enough pay to afford real food. She wouldn’t have to live on the streets anymore.

The melody she sang for Manuela was no longer one that served as a sad memory of her mother. It now paved her future.

She was going to have to wash herself to be presentable for tomorrow.

No matter. Dorothea ran to one of the wood fires near the edge of the city and stealthily scooped up some ash from an extinguished pit. She then made her way to her fountain. Well, it wasn’t hers, per se, but it was an infrequently visited fountain due to its location. It was far from the center of town, where most of the other street urchins resided and tried their luck collecting coins and food scraps from merchants.

As a child and as a girl, Dorothea found more success in the outskirts of the town center, concealing herself when she wanted to hide from the arrogant nobles, but humbly revealing herself when a merchant was about to dispose of spoiled food goods. The better she hid herself, the less likely a noble would see her and kick her down. Or worse, as she heard from the older girls cast to the streets.

This particular water fountain was even less trafficked than others. It was at the southeast section of the city, closer to the Imperial Palace and south of the lesser nobles around the town’s center. Although the wealthier class nobles lived in the area, it was well away from the travelers from the east, yet far enough away from the bridges over the canals that those nobles who usually tended to business there didn’t usually need to go through this street. Dorothea had liked spending her time along near the fountain, singing to herself contentedly on the good days when she managed to find enough food and could use the limited blessings of the streets to bathe.

It had been many weeks since Dorothea last bathed. Usually she waited for the night to bathe to better conceal herself from potential onlookers, but today Dorothea wanted to be thorough and be sure she washed as much dirt off of herself as she could see.

She lathered the ash she collected with some water from the fountain to make a lye, and then added the still warm used cooking oil left out of one of the noble homes on her way from the city outskirts to the fountain, and together the mixture foamed into a soap. Dorothea gently placed the pile of soap and bubbles on the ledge of the fountain, and, after looking around and seeing no one, swiftly removed the ragged burlap sack she wore as a dress. Even on hot summer days like this, it took forever for the burlap to dry, and it was easier to find a new clean sack to wear than to wash the one she already wore. She would still be cold from the damp burlap when she’d try to sleep at night.

After placing the dress on the fountain’s ledge, she climbed into the fountain, scooped up her soap mixture, and washed herself a safe distance away from the burlap sack. Dorothea washed her hands, then her arms, her shoulders, and her face, then the rest of her body.

Finally, she sat in the fountain, rinsing her body of the dirt and soap foam, dipped the top of her head into the water, then began washing her hair with what was left of her soap. She hummed as she scrubbed her head and ran her soapy fingers through her hair, and as her bathing progressed, she sang the song Manuela caught her singing earlier that day, the story of a rebellious songbird that came and went as it pleased, and how the bird was like love.

“ _The bird you thought you caught / Beat its wings and away it flew. / Love evades you, and then you wait / It returns when you least expect it to. / Quickly quickly, all around / It comes, it goes, then it returns / You think to hold it, but it flees / But if you think to flee from it, it holds to you. // You may not love me, but I may love you. / If I love you, then you’d best beware!_ ”

Dorothea stood up to rinse her hair in the water flowing from the top of the fountain. When she stepped out of the falling water and started to wring out her hair, she opened her eyes and found a noble boy about her age staring back at her. He had been glaring at her, but when she locked eyes with him, his eyes grew big at being caught, and he ducked behind a stone fence.

Dorothea had huffed. Even of the young ones, all nobles were the same: pompous, arrogant, and caring only for themselves and not the people they supposedly served. She quickly finished rinsing, put on her burlap dress, and left, the hot summer sun quickly drying the footprints behind her as she left the area.

Now, nine years later, that very boy, with those unmistakable eyes and impeccable hair attended the same school as she. From what she would gather from her peers, this was the son of the prime minister of Adrestia, and even Edelgard thought he and his family were too pleased with their status.

Dorothea determined that she hated him.

“Hello.” The boy had come up to her to introduce himself with a friendly smile. “I am Ferdinand von Aegir. Who might you be?”

“Dorothea Arnault.” She answered curtly.

“Dorothea the songstress?” Ferdinand beamed brightly when Dorothea nodded in confirmation. “I am so delighted to meet you. Might I say, you look even lovelier up close than you do on the stage.”

Dorothea felt exposed, something she hadn’t had time to feel at that fountain years ago. She withheld a groan, and mustered up as much saccharine as her voice would allow. “Thank you, Ferdie. If you’ll excuse me.”

She excused herself to leave the homeroom, and opted to pace along the student dormitories instead, not chancing a glance to see if he thought her behavior seemed different. Thankfully, he didn’t follow her.

What were the odds that they would find each other again here? Not high. Did he recognize her from the fountain incident? Did that even matter?

No, she decided. No it did not.

Dorothea would befriend everyone else in Garreg Mach before she would extend a hand of friendship towards the boy called Ferdinand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song young Dorothea sang in the fountain is another iteration of translated lyrics; the song is the aria "Habanera" from the opera [Carmen] by Georges Bizet.


End file.
